Leaving Burrow Head, we paddled past the rather grandly named...
...Isles of Burrow.
Eventually (and remember we were still quite without luncheon) we noticed a white beacon above the line of apparently unbroken rock. Jim was new to the south west but immediately understood its meaning. This was a luncheon beacon!
Through a gap in the rocks, we slipped into Isle of Whithorn harbour.
We landed